


Not Alone

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Comforting Stiles Stilinski, Derek-centric, Emotionally Hurt Derek Hale, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreaking Yet Heartwarming, Holding and hugging, M/M, Mention of Claudia Stilinski, Slightly Broken Derek, Slightly mistreating of Isaac Lahey, The Hale Fire, embracing, mention of family loss, tender moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Scott and Isaac looked at one another before the blonde werewolf returned his eyes to Stiles, his expression no longer cocky and annoying but soft and sympathetic. “Today’s the anniversary of the Hale Fire.”An icy chill ran down his spine.As the words sunk in, his mind started racing, going over everything, flashing over the night before when Derek had snuck into his room to tell him he would be busy today and that he would be going radio silent.Today…“You left him alone?” The words came out harder than Stiles intended.





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Be mindful that I wrote this at 4 am in the morning.

_I will be your hope_

_When you feel like it’s over_

_And I will pick you up_

_When your whole world shatters_

_And when you’re finally in my arms_

_Look up and see Love has a face._

 

 

“Get him! Get him! There! There!” Stiles yelled to Scott, his eyes focused on the game, Call of Duty, before him, his fingers pressing down with rapid speed on the buttons of his controller.

“Shoot! Shoot!”

“I HEAR YOU, SHUT UP!”

The loud explosion broke the room and Stiles and Scott cheered, a small moment of filled with victorious screams that was simultaneously cut short by the arrival of a new target.

Elbows dug into sides, thighs shoved at thighs as they urged each other on, both minds lost in the game. Stiles laughed with Scott, as he covered his video game character as they ran across the desert.

Suddenly the game froze and Stiles stopped, staring at the screen in a minor stupor before he realized that the game had actually been paused.

Turning to his best friend, Stiles frowned when he saw Scott’s attention was not on the game but on his bedroom door.

“What?” He asked.

Scott glanced at Stiles. “Isaac’s here.”

A small flare of annoyance blended with irritation ignited within him and the apologetic look Scott shot his way didn’t dampen his mood. He let out a loud sigh and dropped the controller on Scott’s bed, knowing the odds of them resuming their game any second now was non-existent.

Sure enough, a long, lean profile materialized from the hallway, coming to stand by the frame of Scott’s door. Donned by his usual scarf and annoyingly innocent expression, Isaac looked at them and gave a small grin.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked and Stiles respected that he had the decency to ask.

Before he could even come up with a rude, but true, remark, something occurred to him and his frown deepened.

“Why are you here? I thought you were gonna hang with Derek?” He asked lightly.

Derek Hale… Man, it still felt weird to think about him, and experience, not with weird mixed feelings but assured and confident love that was confirmed weeks ago… by _both_ parties.

A dark expression pasted over Isaac’s chiselled face. “He—Uh, he sort of kicked me out.”

Stiles leaned forward, his eyes raised in question. “He did what?”

With a heavy sigh, Isaac entered Scott’s room and unwrapped the scarf around his neck. “He kicked me out. Said he wanted to be alone and that If I didn’t leave, he’d drag my ass out with his claws.”

“Huh,” Stiles snorted. “That’s a new one.”

Neither Scott or Isaac shared the joke with him, they just exchanged glances. To say most of the pack members were surprised as well as confused about Stiles and Derek’s relationship would be putting it lightly.

Oddly, it was only Lydia who said she could see it and that she was happy for him.

_“Like you said, right: Sometimes there’s things you wouldn’t think would be a good combination turn out to be a perfect combination.”_

And damn was she right.

“Anyway, did he give you a reason before he became an ass?” Stiles asked.

Shocked covered Isaac’s innocent features and his wide blue eyes locked with Stiles. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” He asked.

Scott and Isaac looked at one another before the blonde werewolf returned his eyes to Stiles, his expression no longer cocky and annoying but soft and sympathetic. “Today’s the anniversary of the Hale Fire.”

An icy chill ran down his spine.

As the words sunk in, his mind started racing, going over everything, flashing over the night before when Derek had snuck into his room to tell him he would be busy today and that he would be going radio silent.

Today…

“You left him alone?” The words came out harder than Stiles intended.

Scott shifted next to him and Isaac visible jerked back at Stiles’ cold tone. His body reacted when a beat of silence fell over them.

Jumping up, Stiles reached out and snatched the keys of his Jeep off Scott’s desk, rushing out the room and down the stairs, his shoes pounding against the wooden stairs.

“Stiles!” He heard someone call his name from behind.

Wrenching the front door open, Stiles made a break for his Jeep, opening the door and slamming it shut. He wrenched the key into the ignition and the car started without a hassle.

As he pulled out and made a sharp turn, his tires screeching, he caught a glimpse of Isaac and Scott as they reached the front door before he took off, speeding down the road, his destination clear, his foot pressed down on the gas pedal.

The Hale Fire!

How could he---

His heart ached and he felt worrying tears starting form as he bounced in his seat, mentally urging the car to drive faster, to get there as soon as possible.

It seemed like years but at the same time it seemed like a mere breathe later when Stiles parked outside the building that housed Derek’s loft. He jumped out, his door slamming, its windows rattling. He locked it with shaky, urgent fingers and then took off once more.

His feet carried him with speed life as boy who ran with Wolves had given him.

He got into the rusty, old elevator, bouncing and shifting on his feet, begging and pleading the fucking machine to go faster.

Stiles wrenched the door open and ran for the loft doors, “Derek!” He called.

He pulled open the door, the metal grinding, echoing through the loft.

As Stiles stepped in, his head whipped from side to side, his tear filled eyes seeking him out, searching for him.

His feet moved his body for him and then his eyes landed on a lone figure, hidden behind a stone pillar, his head bowed, his legs flat on the ground and his hand curled into weak fists on his jean-clad thigh.

“Derek!” He called with relief, rushing over and dropping to his knees before the older man.

However, Derek didn’t move.

Fear and worry flooded him and Stiles reached up with shaky, clammy hands, cupping his boyfriend’s jaw, lifting his head up.

Distance green-grey eyes met his.

A broken sigh escaped him and Stiles, tighten his hand around Derek’s jaws ducked his eyes to see if Derek was focusing on him.

“Derek, hey.” He said desperately, having no idea what to do.

Ash white, with dark circles around his eyes, Derek looked nothing like the man who left his bedroom window last night. The drastic change made it almost impossible to believe that only a few hours had passed since that time.

“Hey, Der, it’s me, Stiles.” He tried and this time, Derek gave a weak blink and a small swallow. “Okay, okay, c’mon.”

Letting go of one side of his jaw, Stiles took hold of Derek’s arm. Gripping it, he gave a small heave to which, much to his relief, Derek moved along with, standing up on his own two feet. Stiles followed him slowly, and the moment Derek had straighten to his full height, his body tilted and he swayed.

“Whoa!” Stiles cried, ducking under in time, to catch Derek.

Wrapping Derek’s arm around his neck and curling his own arm around his waist, he moved toward Derek’s bed, mentally listing what he would need the moment he settled the werewolf down on the mattress.

His boyfriend made no sound and seemed to be stumbling his way to the bed and Stiles flashes on to what Isaac said, about how Derek had threatened to claw him if he didn’t leave…

Lowering him down, Stiles kept his hands on Derek’s side to make sure he didn’t sway and when he remained upright, he knelt down before him.

This time green-grey eyes locked with his instantly and Stiles tried to give him a small, comforting smile.

He reached up and cupped Derek’s cheek, his beard pricking his palm but Stiles could care less. Rhythmically, he brushed the pad of thumb over the only smooth skin on Derek’s cheek.

“Hey,” He said softly. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water and a cloth, okay? Then I’ll be right back.”

Derek swallowed and his brows twitched.

He hate this! He hated not knowing what to do!

“Why don’t you lie down?” He stood up and gently urged Derek to lay down on his side, his body falling limping, his cheek still pillowed in Stiles’ palm.

With one final stroke, Stiles leaned down and pressed his lips against Derek’s temple. “I’ll be right back.”

Gently, easing his hand out, Stiles made his way to Derek’s small bag were he kept his toiletries. Pulling out Derek’s face cloth, he made his way to the small fridge a little way near the large table, to pull out two cool water bottles.

Looking around, he searched for a bowl but instead found one of his plastic lunch boxes from when he had brought Derek a slice of lasagna, cleaned and sitting precariously on the small table in the seating area.

Taking it, he briskly made his way toward the bed were Derek remained curled on his side, his eyes closed, his lips parted.

He would have looked to be asleep but after weeks of waking up to a sleeping Derek, Stiles could tell by the harsh breathing, the furrow in his brow that he was not.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Stiles opened one bottle and poured it into the lunch box. Once the bottle was half way empty, he closed it and place it on the bed, allowing it to roll into the concave Derek’s body created in the mattress, rolling until it came to a stop against his stomach.

With a deep frown, Stiles dipped the cloth in the water, rung it and then started patting Derek’s forehead.

As a child, cool sensations always calmed him…

“Just say the word, and I’ll stop, okay?”

Derek swallowed but said nothing.

Stiles took his time, wiping the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated on Derek’s forehead and temple, holding it there for a brief moment before wetting it once more. He watched as Derek’s shoulders slowly dropped, sinking and sinking, the tension that had coiled and wound his body so tightly, slowly easing.

“Hey, Der.” He said gently and relief flooded him when those eyelids flutter and flicker open. Combing his fingers through Derek’s hair, he continued, “Try sitting up and drinking some water, ‘mkay?”

For a moment neither man moved.

With one weak blink, Derek grunted and lifting himself up into a sitting position.

Bending down, Stiles retrieved the other water bottle, opened it and handed it to Derek. The werewolf took it with shaky fingers and for a second Stiles feared he might drop it but instead, Derek grasped it tightly in his hand and brought the bottle to his lips.

When Stiles was sure Derek was okay, he got up and took to place the cloth back into the lunch box of water, the half empty bottle on the ground, next to the bed.

Something cold brushed his arm and Stiles’ head snapped down as Derek’s fingers wrap around his wrist, giving it a weak tug.

Willingly, Stiles turned and took a seat beside Derek, who took one long, final gulp of his bottle before he dropped it onto the bed. With his back pressed against the headboard behind him, Stiles watched Derek shuffled down and gingerly rest his head over Stiles’ chest, his body instantly sinking.

Wrapping his arm behind Derek, Stiles shifted down a bit and carded his finger through silky black strands, lightly scrapping his already blunt fingernails over his sculpt, slowly, rhythmically.

He felt Derek’s warm breathe against the fabric of his shirt, breaching the thin material. A thick arm wrapped around his thin waist, his fingers curling around and wedging themselves between him and the mattress.

No one said anything for a long time.

Stiles remained silent, known words were words and that were was a time to speak and a time to let their silence speak for itself. He knew what Derek was going through in some degree, having lost his mother at a young age and then nearly his father…

The pain and the hollowed feeling was not something he wished upon anyone but fate was a twisted bitch and Derek felt that hollowed feeling daily, because the world just kept taking and taking from him…

Beacon Hills wasn’t much a Beacon but a town that snuffed out whatever light they seem to have.

A deep, gruff voice broke the silence. “I’m sorry—“

“Don’t.” Stiles cut him off, carding his fingers through Derek’s hair. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, do you understand me? _Nothing_.”

He felt the twitch and tightening of Derek’s jaw as he clenched it.

“You’d think after all these years, I would have learned to deal with it…”

Something wet lands on his shirt, soaking it and though it went against every fiber in his body, Stiles remained still and silent.

“But… I can’t… Not anymore.” Derek muttered, his voice croaking near the end.

“Can’t what?”

“Take another loss.”

Only then does Stiles shift. He reach over with his free hand, placing his crooked index finger under Derek’s chin, gently urging him to look up.

When glistering green-grey eyes locked with his, Stiles said in a firm voice. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that.”

The truth stung them both and Stiles swallowed down the growing lump in his throat.

“Well, then, how about a promise? A promise to fight with every bone in my body to return to you?”

Derek stared at him for a second before he shifted, and leaned up. The hand beneath him slipped out and a warm palm covered his cheek as soft lips met his.

It was sweet and slow, a tender caress of the lips. Stiles weaved his fingers through Derek’s hair and gently fist the strands, angling his head down to deepen the kiss just a bit, capturing Derek’s bottom lip and flicking his tongue against it.

Derek shifted a little closer to him, pulling away slowly, their lips dragging reluctantly away from the comforting contact, before he leaned in for one last soft kiss.

Tracing his knuckles against the sharp line of Derek’s jaw, Stiles stared down at the man who had come to mean so much to him, in such a small time frame.

There was a time when Stiles would have wished Derek would just fuck off and leave him and Scott alone…

Now, as he stared down at Derek, who had returned to his previous position, his ear pressed firmly over Stiles’ heart, he knew, deep in his soul that there would be a huge hole in his life if anything were to ever happen to Derek.

Speaking softly, in a voice that was barely above a whisper, Stiles said. “I love you… You know that, right?”

There was a beat.

“Yeah…” Derek said thickly. “Me too.”

 

 

_I am with you_

_I will carry you through it all_

_I won’t leave you_

_I will catch you_

_When you feel like letting go_

_‘Cause you’re not…_

_You’re not alone._

**Author's Note:**

> The song and lyrics are from 'Not Alone by Red' (because that song is amazing.)


End file.
